My sweet, little baby trash Amelie prompted me once upon a time. I'm here now to fulfill.

Teen OQ because I'm trash for teen OQ.

Thanks Geli for the beta.


The candlelight bathes the room in its orange glow, making shadows dance as the fames flicker. Regina eyes the bed before with trepidation, anxiety creeping up on her nerves. There are flowers scattered all over the room, and it's beautiful, really beautiful, even as her heart trip hammered in her chest.

She has agreed to this, has actually been the one to suggest it to him, but she feels her courage beginning to waver (not that she has a lot to begin with), and feels her stomach doing somersaults, and she's not sure that this is a good idea after all.

But she wants this, she tells herself. And this is the right decision, the best decision a seventeen year old like herself could make, anyway. And besides, it's him, she can never really make a wrong decision if she's with him.

She feels a hand snake around her waist, and she turns, finding his blue eyes looking at her strangely. There's that usual twinkle in them, and when caught by the flickering lights, it's even more beautiful.

He is beautiful.

And tonight, he is hers.

"Well, okay, so how do you want to do this?" he asks, and that's an awkward question, he knows it too, because he scratches the back of his neck, biting down on his lip as he gives her a sheepish smile.

"Well, the usual way everyone does it," she says then, dryly, earning a laugh from him.

He pulls her closer to him and her breath hitches, her heart now pumping harder inside her and she thinks she might pass out when he leans down and captures her lips in a soft kiss. It's the first time he's kissed her, and it is everything that she's imagined it to be, soft and gentle, sweet, romantic. It's everything she's dreamed out.

It's something new yet so familiar, cozy even. It's like sipping her favorite wine, or slipping on her most comfortable pajamas, it's something she knows by heart and loves, even when she hasn't had it for a very long time.

He tastes of something sweet and minty, something that she cannot place or describe, but she likes it. She likes it even more when he pulls her closer and deepens their kiss, swiping his tongue against the seams of her lips, prompting her to moan and open her mouth. He slides his tongue in easily, without hesitation, and she breathes in just a little deeper, wanting to open her eyes so she can see his face but doesn't dare, cannot dare.

She's just a little afraid that he might be gone and this is just a dream that she'll be ripped from unceremoniously and quite cruelly.

Her thoughts flutter away from her thoughts then when she feels his hand soothe up and down her back, and then slowly inching to the front where he cups her breasts in his hand. He then slowly lowers his hand, tugs her shirt up and peals it away from her body, dropping it haphazardly on the carpeted floor.

Somehow, no matter how wrong this seems, it does feel right.

He pulls away a little and stares at her, and she looks back at him and fidgets, wondering what could possibly be in his mind, as he looks at her that way. His nose flares and his pupils dilate, before he licks her lips and ducks down to place soft kisses against her neck. She tilts her head just so, to give him ample access.

"Beautiful," he breathes against her skin, "You're beautiful."

She closes her eyes once more, wishing she could believe it.

It is her idea.

Robin wouldn't say it's the best idea she's had, but he definitely doesn't back away, and he can't if he wanted to. She has offered herself to him, to worship and to love, to cherish and to pleasure, and he'd be a right blooming asshole if he even rejects her.

The fact that they are best friends, of course doesn't escape his thoughts. He's considered it so much, thought over it so many times he has given himself a headache over it. He's thought of the ramifications, thought of the consequences of their actions. What if he loses her? He cannot stand that.

He cannot lose her.

But she had come to him, one day, telling him without preamble that she wants for him to make love to her, regardless of their relationship status, or the lack thereof, and wants him to ease her in to the art of love making, so to speak.

He himself hadn't had much experience at that point, but it is still so much more than hers, because the only man she's ever dated had turned up to be an asshole and there had been no way in hell she could have given herself to him. She had looked at him pleadingly, wide eyed and with a slight pout in her lips that it had been so hard to reject her.

And it isn't as though he isn't madly in love with her, has always been since he's moved onto the neighborhood and saw her for the first time. He had tried to confess his feelings to her so many times, but his fear of losing her should he act on his feelings and she ends up not feeling the same way had always been what made him not to.

Now though, as he kisses her naked breasts softly, nipping at her fragrant flesh and licking against her delicious skin, he doesn't mind that she might not feel the same. He loves her, and he's going to show her, everything else be damned.

He's been in love with her for years, and tonight, tonight she is finally, finally his.

Regina feels the tears sting her eyes as Robin kisses her breasts, sucking at the pebbled peaks. He licks and nips at her flesh, and she moans loudly, her legs wrapping around his waist. She feels him press hi weight down on her body, feels the moment their bodies connect even through layers of clothing, and she gasps out. The feeling of his long, hard shaft against her slippery, hot core makes her tremble.

She lifts her hand and cards her fingers through his hair, mindless of what she's doing, only knowing that she needs to touch, needs to touch him, as he moves down her stomach, kisses just below her navel and undoes the clasp of her jeans, easing it down her hips and throwing it behind him carelessly. It lands with a soft thud against the carpeted floor, and mercifully, it doesn't really hit any of the candles.

He kisses her lace covered sex first, before he peels her panties away and throws it behind him once again. He's much too clothed, is her first thought, for he is still wearing his shirt and his jeans while she is lying naked, exposed before him.

She doesn't get the chance to voice out her teeny tiny bit of complain however, because suddenly his tongue is on her, licking against her tightened bundle of nerves. He flattens his tongue and licks along her folds, all over her sex, and it feels good, it feels so, so good and leaves her no room for embarrassment over how wet she already is.

Whether or not she admits it to him, she has been in love with him for years, perhaps even from the first time she's seen her when they'd moved in the neighborhood. She hasn't told him how she feels, afraid that he doesn't feel the same way, and had been content to just be by his side as his best friend. Over the years, she's tried to date, had dated one boy who had turned out to be an asshole and had even admitted that he'd only dated her for sex, had not realized she's such a prude.

But she isn't a prude, and though that blow had hurt, she's glad it's over, because at least, she's giving her first time to the man she actually loves, to Robin, even if this is actually a less than an amorous circumstance (the sex notwithstanding).

She feels him shift a bit, moving his a little to change his angle, and then she feels his fingers teasing her, sliding over her slit before he pushes inside her core, and it makes her gasp, has her moaning and panting in his arms. It's both pain and pleasure, and she lies still, trying to wait which feeling wins out in the end.

He is gentle and caring, sensitive about every shift in her movements, and so when he feels her tense, he looks up at her in silent question. She only nods, waits for his next move.

Pleasure, she decides, wins out in the end, for he now has two fingers inside her, his tongue flicking and licking against her slippery, warm flesh, and he has her mewling and moaning, gasping out his name as heat washes over her. She isn't entirely sure what this is, but she feels something in her core, a tingling, and maybe this it is, maybe she's close, she doesn't know, all she knows is that she's spiraling, up, up, and up, until she's barely able to breathe from the feeling inside her, and then she just explodes, panting, his name falling upon her lips.

She is beautiful, so goddamn beautiful, especially when she comes. She's flushed and she's gasping, heaving for breaths as she soars, and he loves it, loves that he's the one who can make her feel this way. He thrusts his fingers inside her more, curls them, and milks out the last of her first orgasm ever. He wants to be inside her now, wants to feel him around his length, wants to fill her and make love to her until she's sated.

But he restrains himself for the time being, waiting for her go signal. Instead, he kisses her soft skin, just below her navel, all over her stomach. When he feels her tug against his hair, he looks up and smiles at her, one that returns and makes his heart flutter.

God, she is beautiful.

She asks him to come up softly, and when he acquiesces, she lowers his head and kisses him silly. She slips her tongue past his lips and coaxes his to play. She explores, and he lets her, enjoying the feel of her roving hands and her demanding tongue.

"I need you inside me," she whispers when she pulls away and he's about to ask her if she's sure, but she nods before he can say a word and wraps her legs around his waist, making his length bump against her clit, which elicits a moan from them both.

He wastes no time, pushes inside her with purpose but with gentleness he is surprised with. But this is Regina, the woman of his dreams, and he's not about to fuck it up or do something that could hurt her. He thrusts his hips against hers when she's finally adjusted, and he sees the pain in her eyes but she forges on, gives him a nod when she's caught her breath.

He moves then, shows her how much he really does love her even without the words, and here, right here, he feels like the luckiest man alive.

He makes love to her all through the night, and though Regina could not quite work up the courage to tell him how she really feels, she feels like there are no need for any more words. He's here and he has just given her the best first time she could ever dream of. She hopes for the words, but really, she could do without them, for she already knows that he really does love her, in his own way, whichever way it might be.

And she lays on top of him, head against his shoulder, nose against his neck, and chest over his, she hears, she feels and she knows that their heart are beating in perfect harmony.

Fin (2/20/16)


A/N: Got a prompt? Let me know! and let me know what you think of this trash! :D